


Play For Me Till I Close My Eyes

by F_X



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 15:17:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13790442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F_X/pseuds/F_X
Summary: The War shakes all its heads and clutches the pipe in its many hands, digging its nails deep into the stained metal.





	Play For Me Till I Close My Eyes

In the centre of the room stands a figure wrapped in green and brown, tattered rags hanging from its limbs, blowing in in a breeze that is not there. As he steps closer to it it turns around and he is held in place by the gaze of too many eyes. It extends one of its arms towards him in a salute, the others caressing a long metal pipe caked with dried blood.  
"Are you going to kill me?" he tries to ask as the image of the old man on the floor flashes through his mind, but The Eye is looking the other way this time.  
The War shakes all its heads and clutches the pipe in its many hands, digging its nails deep into the stained metal.  
"What then?" He imagines all its mouths opening at once to give its statement, to tell the truth. He imagines the whispering choir of its voices filling his ears till they overflow with crimson tears.  
Instead he hears nothing, sees nothing. It simply stands in front of him, staring intensely back at the one who watches. It claws slowly at the metal in its twisted hands, scratching deep holes in the surface as it waits.  
Footsteps echo down the tunnel behind him, someone running, calling his name. The War bares its fangs in a twisted smile, then bites down on the end of the weapon, flakes of dried blood falling to the floor in front of it. The scraping sound of its chewing, of teeth against iron, accompany the rhythmic pounding of feet against stone as the stranger approaches.  
"If you wish to kill me..."  
The gnashing sound stops as The War looks at him, once again shaking its head.  
"No." It smiles and raises its hands, presenting its creation just as someone bursts through the door behind him.  
"Jon?!"  
A familiar voice. Their eyes meet for a second.  
"And so," The War sings. "We shall play all three."  
As it puts the pipe to its lips, his vision blurs as tears form in his eyes.  
"I'm sorry, Martin."

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of The Piper creating an instrument of the pipe from Mag80 has been in my head for a few days, so I decided to note down something quick.


End file.
